Take Out
by dejamevivir
Summary: Hermione is 25. And alone. What happens when she gets an offer from non other than Draco Malfoy to attend a Gala with him? On her birthday. She accepts, not knowing the consequences of her actions. One Shot Fic


**Takeout  
****Author**: LB  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own HP  
**Description**: One Shot/Hermione-Draco/Romance/Comedy 

* * *

It was Hermione's birthday. She, however, was not celebrating. Hiding in an oversized pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt, she was covered under several blankets on her King Sized bed in her new Flat. The television, smartly positioned opposite her bed, was on, and she was watching the old version of Pride and Prejudice, with Colin Firth. She licked the chocolate ice cream off her spoon and sighed dreamily. Her phone rang and she made no effort to see who was calling. Instead, she let it ring several times until she heard her voice.

"HEY! It's Hermione, sorry I can't get to your call, do leave a message after the beep and I'll get back to you as quickly as I can!" The phone beeped and she heard a sigh.

"Mione, I know you're there, just answer, PLEASE!" shouted Ginny. Hermione remained silent. Ginny sighed again. "Fine, if you want to act this way, then keep it up, see if you get invited to my wedding! Happy Birthday!" she snarled and then slammed the receiver down. Hermione cringed and felt guilty for not picking up, but she looked down into the carton of ice cream and smiled. She picked up the remote and changed the channel. Bloody Darcy always got on her nerves. Why couldn't SHE find her Mr. Darcy! She had a love/hate relationship with that storyline. She sighed and turned the TV off. Here she was. 25. Alone. She looked around at her Bedroom, pictures of herself and her family, and friends decorated the shelves and walls. Her dresser was a mess, which was amazing even to her, since she had only been in the house for 2 weeks. She had been saving money for three years, till she had enough to buy the house. It was modest, the master bedroom, plus a much smaller guest one, one bathroom, one kitchen, and there was a living room and study. She also had a spare room downstairs with which she had no idea what to do with it. It was so small though; there wasn't much she _could _do with it. The phone rang again and she moaned. Couldn't she spend her day alone in peace? She wondered miserably. She reached over and grabbed the cordless phone and looked at the number. She didn't recognize it.

"Probably some bloody telemarketer," she muttered. She hit the on button.

"Hello?" she said nastily. The voice she heard, she did not expect.

"Granger," It _COULDN'T_ be, it couldn't possibly be who she thought it was.

"Malfoy?" she asked incredulously. She could almost hear him smirking on the other side. Despite all the things he had gone through in the past few years, despite all the things he had lost, his cockiness hadn't been one of them.

"Yes, Granger, Malfoy, is everything alright with you? You sound a bit…dazed," he said. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm…in the middle of something, Malfoy, what do you want?" she asked hurriedly.

"What could you possibly be doing?" he asked.

"Er…I'm cleaning," she muttered lamely. He laughed.

"Right, look, I happen to know it's your birthday today—"

"How the hell do you know that?"

"It's in my planner. Look, it updates itself. It's been there since I was forced to come to your birthday party last year," he muttered. A smile dawned on her face as the memories of that night played in her mind.

"Oh…I…remember," she said, suppressing her laughter. She heard him sigh.

"Look, what happened that night…"

"You mean when you got so drunk you started singing old ABBA songs at the table, using….a chicken leg as a microphone?" she asked innocently. He growled.

"Look, Granger—"

"No, YOU listen here Malfoy, YOU called ME, YOU interrupted ME, so just spit out what you want, or if you don't have anything good to say, just hang up," she said.

"Alright, look, I have…a gala to attend to tonight, and I know it's your birthday, and I need someone to escort me, and—"

"_Escort?_" she asked. "Bloody Hell, couldn't you get one of your models or something, I mean, who wants to take a Healer to a Gala?" He sighed.

"Well, I…I'm tired of those girls,"

"No, there's another reason, something else, what are you hiding from me Malfoy?" she asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Granger, stop acting like Mad-Eye Moody and just tell me you'll come," he said.

"But what will I wear?" she asked.

"I'll send a tailor over to your house in an hour, she'll measure you, and bring a dress for you in the evening," he said. She gulped.

"Alright, fine, as long as I don't have to pay for it," she muttered.

"Of course not, I'll pick you up at eight," he said, and abruptly hung up. Hanging up the phone she groaned.

A Gala, WHAT WAS SHE THINKING?

* * *

A Witch who was also a Seamstress stopped by at her home, in exactly an hour. Her face was long and pointed, and her hair was pulled back into a severe bun. She looked down upon Hermione as a measuring tape measured her body and she scribbled notes on a piece of paper. 

"So do I get to choose which color I wear?" she asked hopefully. The woman, whose name was Melissa Serve lifted a questioning eyebrow, "Choose? There is nothing for you to choose, dear. Mr. Malfoy has already chosen the design and the color, his ladies have no say in this, surely he told you?" she asked. She smirked.

"His _Ladies?_"She asked. The woman sighed and shook her head.

"Another new one," she muttered. Saying nothing else she collected her magic measuring tape and tapped it with her wand. It rolled up.

"I'll stop by in a few hours to deliver the dress and jewels, and I'll bring someone along to…fix your hair," she said looking at Hermione's bushy hair with obvious distaste. Hermione touched her hair and gasped.

"Oh, it's usually not like this, it's just that I've been home all day and—"

"Expect me at six," she said, and with a crack she was gone. Hermione sighed and pulled her hair back. She felt it, thick, and curly, coarse. Why did people seem to have a vendetta against curly hair? Shaking her head, she went into the kitchen to get some lunch, and wonder why she had agreed to this.

* * *

"Is she coming with you?" Ginny asked. She sat across from Malfoy in his office. He smiled and nodded. 

"She had better not ruin my night," Draco said taking a sip of coffee from his cup. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"She will NOT ruin your night, you know how poised and articulate Hermione is, it's just that, it's her birthday, and I know the last thing she would want to do is…"

"Hang out with a bunch of couples," he muttered. She took a sip of her water and nodded.

"Yeah, basically, I mean, all of us are either seeing someone or engaged, and you know, after she broke up with Krum, her love life has taken…well, it hasn't been great. So, I figured, setting her up with the most Eligible Bachelor in the magical world would work," she said with a smile. Draco shook his head.

"You are too much, Weasely," he said. He couldn't help but smile a small smile as he looked at the spunky Weasely girl. Over the past few years, even though he didn't want to admit it, he had grown fond of the Weasely girl.

"Alright, Malfoy, I'm heading out, treat Hermione well, otherwise, it'll be you and me," she said giving him a withering glance. He nodded.

"Of course, of course, you know me…" he said getting up to escort her to the door. She left the office and he went over to the mirror, checked his hair and his teeth. Who would think, that he, would be on a date of sorts with Granger? He walked over to the window and peered outside to the world below. He was young, rich, and successful. His mother constantly pestered him with marriage proposals from witches of "good stock" as she called them, and his father, well, his father wasn't around anymore. He sighed. Running the company was stressful enough, dealing with false accusations of him still being a Death Eater, and everything else evil under the sun was beginning to wear his patience thin, and he knew he would one day lash out and do something he probably would come to regret in the future.

At the fall of Lord Voldemort, his father had been killed. His mother had insisted they gave him a decent burial. What she didn't know was that Draco had been the one to kill his father. Something he told only several people, Ginny Weasely, being one of them. He didn't know how it had happened, but at the end of the war, he had somehow struck up a friendship with the Weaseleys and Potter, surprisingly. The only one he hadn't been very close with, was, ironically Granger. She had been taken up with Krum, and had lived in his house. She hung out with the rest of them on occasion, but when they began seeing Draco more often than Hermione, they began to wonder, and he saw them less and less. The only real friends he ever had, they actually listened to him, and they actually laughed at his jokes without him telling them that they had to.

A knock on the door brought him out of his reverie and he went back behind his mahogany desk and sat in his seat.

"Come in," he said. The door opened and his secretary came in holding several files.

"The files you requested, Mr. Malfoy," she said. She blushed as their hands touched when he took the files.

"Ariana, has my suit been received as of yet?" he asked without looking up.

"Yes sir, they're working on the alterations as we speak, it will be delivered to your home at six,"

"Right then, that will be all," he said closing the folder and looking up. She smiled and nodded meekly. As she reached to the door he called out to her.

"Ariana, wait," he said. She stopped and turned around.

"Can you…can you just make sure the color of my tie is golden yellow as I requested? And see if they got the correct cufflinks, "Her smile faltered.

"Yes, sir," she said softly, and left the office. Draco sighed, because he knew that his secretary was already in love with him.

* * *

The woman who came to do her hair was pretty, and blonde. Her hair was in a high bun, several tendrils escaped down to her neck. She smiled at Hermione and Hermione smiled uncertainly back. 

"Alo, My name is Flora, I weel be your air dresser," she said airily. Hermione sighed.

"Look, I don't want anything too…fancy," she said. The woman shrugged and smiled. With a wave of her wand, she had brought in a table with a mirror and a chair. Hermione's hair was damp, as she had washed it only a few minutes earlier. Hermione sat in the chair and the woman began massaging some hair cream into her locks.

"I ave been eenstructed to geeve you a bun, a preety bun," she said. Hermione grimaced, more from the woman's accent rather than her impending hairstyle.

"But I would just prefer some…waves or something," Hermione said. The woman shrugged.

"Look, I ave my instructions, I cannot change it, I am sorrie," Hermione rolled her eyes and then shut up, better to just let her get on with it and go. She had been working for about 20 minutes when the doorbell rang again. With her wand, Hermione opened the door, only to see the same stern looking woman again, this time with an assistant. She had brought the dress and other accessories that she would be using for the night. Hermione consoled herself by saying that it was all free, it was all free.

* * *

Hermione was decked out in a black dress. The neckline was swooping downward, creating a little rift between her breasts, and the back was covered partially, thankfully, she sighed with relief when she saw that it wasn't at all as bad as she had expected. There was a gold, yellow working of flowers and leaves along the top and bottom, but other than that, it was black, and quite pretty. Her shoes were black and strappy and a bit higher than she was used to, and they gave her a small black purse to put whatever she could stuff into it. She had her wand strapped against her leg. She looked at the clock and saw that it was seven fifty nine. She shuddered. The ladies had left her about an hour ago, so she sat on the couch, basically sweating bullets and wondering why she had agreed to this nonsense. She had half a mind to cancel but there was a knock on the door and she stood up, the dress swishing around her. Walking over to the door, she cautiously opened it and peered through the crack. Draco stood there, his hair slicked back, with a bunch of roses in his hands. She noticed his tie matched the color of gold on her dress and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She opened the door and managed a smile. 

"Hello…Malfoy," she said. He nodded.

"Hello yourself, happy birthday," he said presenting her with the bouquet of flowers. She smiled again, this time a genuine smile and graciously took the flowers.

"They're beautiful, thank you, let me just put them in a vase, come in, do you want some coffee? Oh, watch those boxes, I've only been here for a few weeks," she said. He cocked an eyebrow and stepped cautiously into the house. He closed the door behind her and sat on her couch. She was in the kitchen and he studied the living room. It looked a bit chaotic, but there was some semblance of order. The boxes were all color coded, following some sort of order, and they were in neat stacks. He noticed she didn't have a television, but there was a shelf that had already been packed with books. He shook his head. Some people never change, he thought as he looked around again. He saw a set of photos over the mantelpiece and went over to observe them. There were several with Harry and her, Ron was there, so was Ginny and Neville, Luna, and there was one with Krum. He sulked around in the back of the photo, it was a huge group photo, and he too was in the photo, he looked at himself smiling up at him.

"It was a nice photo, I've been meaning to cut him out," she said. She had two cups of coffee in her hands. He nodded.

"Oh…no, I was just looking," he said moving away from the photos. She shrugged and walked over to him, handing him the coffee. She sat on the couch and he sat next to her.

"Oh, come on, I'm sure you heard about the entire…fiasco," she said with a grin. She too, had a cup of coffee. She took a sip. He nodded and looked at the floor.

"How long were you two…"

"Two years, going on three, he had been cheating on me for…six or seven months," she said taking another sip of coffee. He noticed her hand tremble, and suddenly felt a wealth of sorrow in his chest.

"Hey, are you sure you want to do this…" he asked.

"Ginny put you up to it, didn't she?" she asked. He laughed.

"How did you know?" She laughed, a delicate laugh, and he suddenly found himself wanting to take her bun down.

"I figured she would do something like this, I mean, what would YOU want to do with me?" she asked. He sighed, feeling guilty.

"Give me a few minutes," he said getting up. He put his coffee cup on the table and walked over to the door. He left. She stared at the door. What the hell was he doing? She wondered. A moment later, he was walking back into her house, this time, he took off his shiny shoes and left them next to the door. He came back to the couch and sat next to her.

"What did you do?" she asked. He sighed.

"I bailed out, I've had enough of those stuffy parties anyway," he said. She looked at him.

"You bailed out? BLOODY HELL, and I went through all of this for what?" she asked pointing to the dress. He shrugged.

"You can keep it, the jewelry too," he said. She sighed and began undoing her shoes. He grinned.

"No, let me," he said. He got off the couch and sat on the floor. Her eyebrows rose up so high, he thought they would disappear. He began undoing the strappings on her shoes and as he did he caressed her legs. She looked at him questioningly. Finally, her shoes were off, and he was looking at her.

"Your hair is next," he said. She said nothing as he came back up and began taking out the pins used to keep her hair up in the bun. Her hair fell down, over her back and she sighed a sigh of relief. She turned and looked at him.

"Ginny didn't pay you to have sex with me or anything did she?"Hermione asked. He laughed.

"No, she didn't, "he said. She sighed and leaned back on the seat.

"Well, would you like to tell me what's going on?" she asked. He shrugged.

"It's your birthday, you deserve some fun," he said.

"Since when did you care?" she shot back. He stared at her silently.

"Since now, Hermione, do you have any wine?" he asked. She nodded.

"In the kitchen, there's a bottle in the fridge, glasses in the box on the table," she said. She followed him with her eyes as he went into her kitchen and began rummaging in her fridge. A little while later, he emerged with two glasses filled with wine, and the bottle, which he placed on the table. Handing her a glass, he raised it into the air.

"A birthday toast," he said. She smiled, reluctantly and they knocked glasses.

"Thank you, Draco," she said. Their eyes met, both registering the use of his first name.

"Do you want food?" he asked. Her eyes widened.

"Oh, yes, we should get food," she said getting up. "Let me get the takeout menus, what do you want, Chinese, Indian?" she asked over her shoulder. He studied her body in the dress, how it hugged her curves, and her legs, how lean and beautiful they were. How could Krum do something like that to her? He wondered. She turned around when she got no response.

"Oh, sorry, sorry, Chinese is fine," he said. She grinned.

"I didn't think a big businessman like yourself would eat such foods," she said grabbing the cordless phone from the wall. He shrugged.

"You don't know the half of it," he said. She smiled and dialed the number.

"What would you like, check this out, the dinner special," she said pointing to something on the menu. He read it and nodded in approval. A few minutes later, they had ordered and they were sipping their wine and waiting. Hermione realized how awkward their situation was. Here she was, sitting with Draco Malfoy, about to eat Chinese food with him. She smiled inwardly. The door bell rang and she pointed her wand toward her bedroom.

"_Accio Purse," _she said. Soon enough, a little purse was zooming downstairs. She opened the door and paid for the food. Draco was in the kitchen getting plates. He brought them out.

"You don't mind if we eat here do you?" he asked gesturing to the living room. She shrugged.

"We could sit on the floor I suppose," she said. He nodded and then looked down at his clothing.

"Ah, bugger, I should…change," he said. She looked down at herself and realized she was still wearing the dress.

"Oh, right, well, I have some clothes upstairs, I should go change, umm, do you need anything?" she asked. He shook his head.

"I think I should be able to…do something," he said. She raised her eyebrows.

"Well, I could lend you a t-shirt, a big one, and…"

"That should be good, I'm wearing boxers." He said unabashedly. She nodded and went up to change.

* * *

She had put back on her old sweats, not caring anymore what he saw her in. She had rummaged around in her drawers; the ones she had managed to pack, and came up empty handed. She spied a bag in the corner of the room, and remembered she had put old clothes in there she was planning on chucking. She waved her wand and it opened and the clothing arranged on the floor. She saw an old shirt, with a huge pink heart on it, it was fading, and the heart had been scratched in the corner. Shrugging, she chose it, and with another wave of her wand, the rest of the clothing went back into the bag. Walking downstairs in her sweats and a wife beater vest she saw him sitting on the floor, dishing out food. He was bareback and sporting a glossy looking pair of boxers which were emerald green. She tossed the shirt at him. 

"Sorry, this was all I could find," she said. He looked at the shirt and grimaced.

"Wow..." he said. He reluctantly put it on and she laughed at the expression on his face. He rolled his eyes.

"Don't laugh," he said. She sobered up and motioned toward the food. Grabbing a plate, she began eating. He too ate hungrily.

When they had eaten their full, and had drank several bottles of wine, they sat on the floor still, laughing at the stupid things they had done at Hogwarts and in their lives afterward. Draco had just relayed to her something that he had done while at Hogwarts and she laughed so much, she began to cry. He looked at her as she laughed and couldn't help but laugh along with her. He had been so wrong about her all those years. She was a person, not a stuck up brat as he had always imagined.

"You know…I always thought you were stuck up," he said. She stopped laughing and looked at him.

"Well, I could have figured that out!" she said. He laughed.

"I suppose, I treated you badly, did I?" he asked looking at her. He had stopped laughing. She nodded slowly.

"Yes, you called me names, and you treated me and my friends like shi-"

She didn't get a chance to finish, as he had leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips. She was dizzy and confused, and kissed him back. The wine had heated her blood, and she felt herself willingly melting into his arms as he pulled her closer. When they broke apart, she looked at him, and he looked her in the eye, a serious expression on his face.

"Hermione I…" She giggled.

"Draco, I don't know what I'm doing, I'm drunk, I feel like I want you to take advantage of me," she said. He grinned and then leaned into her neck.

"You smell amazing," he mumbled. She felt his hot breath on her skin and she shivered.

She pulled away from him and looked at him; tears were welling in his eyes.

"Hermione, I don't…I…I don't know what's wrong with me," he said helplessly as the tears splashed down his face. She smiled and shook her head. She stood up and took his hand. Guiding him, she took him to the stair case and bid him to follow her. He walked up behind her, almost mesmerized.

When they got into the bedroom he looked at her bed and smiled.

"You DO have a TV." He said looking at the big screen. She laughed.

"Yes, I suppose…" she said looking a little confused.

"Hermione I want to sleep, with you," he said. She hiccupped.

"Er…"

"I mean, just sleep," he said going over to her bed. He groggily climbed up on her bed and went under her covers. Looking around she couldn't find her wand. She spied his on the floor, where he had dropped it a few moments earlier without even noticing it. She picked it up and looked at it, trying to remember a spell, and then waved it. She heard locks click, and the lights went out. Taking off her pants, she dived into the bed next to him and he smiled at her.

"This is what I want, Hermione, just you," he said, still drunk. He sat up and took the shirt off and threw it to the ground.

"Are you going to forget all of this in the morning?" she asked taking off her shirt as well. He shrugged.

"Probably," he said grinning. He leaned over and kissed her and she kissed him back.

"You have nice eyes," she said. He looked into hers.

"I know," he mumbled back. She gasped.

"You are SO conceited!" she said. He grinned and kissed her again.

"Hermione, are you going to sleep?" he asked. She sighed and lay on her back, looking at the ceiling.

"I don't know," she said simply. He moved closer to her and threw his arm over her body.

"Well, I want to sleep, I haven't been this drunk since…"

"Since my party last year," she said softly. But when she turned over to look at him, her eyes brimming with tears, he had fallen asleep. She let them fall, and cascade down her face, not knowing why she was crying. It just seemed the sensible thing to do. She was crying for everything. When she finally quieted down, she wiped her eyes and turned to face him. She fell asleep.

* * *

Hermione woke up the next morning to the smell of eggs and bacon wafting from the kitchen downstairs. She immediately went into a panic and reached to the nightstand for her want but felt her heartbeat increase rapidly when it wasn't there. She closed her eyes and concentrated hard for a moment and her wand came soaring from downstairs up into her hand. 

"Merlin bless wandless magic…" she muttered as she swung her feet over the bed. She immediately felt dizzy and had to slow down. What had happened last night? And then she remembered. She remembered Draco, his kisses, wine, and after that, was a blank. She looked at herself and saw she was in her underwear. Her pants were on the floor and so was the vest she was wearing. She quickly picked them up and slipped them on, walking downstairs to see what the hell Draco was doing.

Or rather, what he was attempting to do. The bacon smelled burned, and the eggs looked…nothing like eggs. Hermione stood at the door and had to stifle a giggle as he brooded over the stove. When smoke started rising from the pan of bacon however, she ran in with her wand and fixed it. He looked startled to see her.

"Hermione, I was…"

"Trying to make breakfast?" she asked with a smile. He shrugged and nodded. "Draco, er, why don't you…wait in the living room, while I fix the…"

"Disaster?" he asked. She grimaced.

"It's not that bad, really," she said with a smile. He shook his head.

"Cooking was never for me," he said.

"There's always time to learn." She said. He looked at her, in her sweatpants, and her old vest and felt something in his chest that he had never felt before. He wanted to stay, he wanted to see her cook the eggs and bacon. He wanted to watch her every move, the way her hand moved when she waved her wand or how she concentrated when she said her spells, he just wanted to watch her. He moved beside her as she pointed at the pot and described to him the correct way to scramble eggs, and properly fry the bacon; when she finished, he had broken out of the seemingly trancelike state he was in and he took the food to the little kitchen table. There were many boxes in the kitchen.

They sat in silence at the table, each of them shooting furtive glances at one another when they could. When their eyes met, they hastily looked away and paid attention to their meal. When they had finished eating, Hermione cleared her throat.

"Draco what happened last night?" she asked. He looked at her and sighed.

"I…don't think anything happened, anything serious," he added hastily. She nodded.

"Do you have a hang over?" she asked. He shook his head.

"Well, I did, but I found your medicine in the bathroom cabinet," he said. She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, well, we have a little snoop on our hands, what else did you find?" she asked folding her arms. He shook his head.

"No, I was really ill, I just figured you would have something to help and it would be in the bathroom cabinet," he said quickly. She regarded him for a moment and then dropped her arms.

"Alright then, well, how are you getting home, Dissaparating?" she asked getting up and clearing the plates. He looked at her back. She wanted him to leave? She turned around.

"DRACO. I asked you a question," she said. He looked lost for a moment and then he answered.

"I…I want to stay here for a while, with you, today," he said. She was taken aback.

"With ME?" she asked. He shrugged.

"I don't have anything else better to do," he said. She smirked.

"Oh, yeah, since when has running a company been nothing good to do?" she asked. He grinned.

"It's Sunday, Hermione, my day off," he said. She surveyed him and then sighed.

"Well, it's alright I suppose," she said.

"I could help you unpack," She shrugged.

"If you want to,"

"I want to,"

* * *

It was amazing how much she got done with him around. He helped her pack her things and he helped her clean, as best as he could. It was more of a comfort to simply have him around, to accidentally bump into him, when they were doing things. The day passed with them cleaning, packing, and laughing and talking more than they had ever thought they would. Around six, they decided to stop and they went out onto the front lawn, the sun was settting. He placed his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Leaves were falling all around them, heralding the approach of autumn. As the sun set and cast a golden glow on them and all around them, he looked down into her eyes and she looked up into his. He smiled, and she smiled back. 

"I never thought, I would, actually enjoy this," he admitted. She shook her head.

"And I never thought I would be standing here, with you," she said. He leaned over and kissed her and she kissed him back. Could it be happening, could she actually open up enough to let someone in again? When they pulled apart they stayed silent for a few moments.

"Hermione Granger, will you do me the pleasure of going on a date with me?" he asked. She bit her lip and then nodded.

"I will do you the pleasure," she said with a smile. He grinned and kissed her again and then grabbed her hand.

"Okay, make me some dinner," he said pulling her inside.

"WHAT!" she bellowed.

Their laughter echoed all around them as they went inside. Perhaps, she could be happy.

She was 25, and now, was no longer alone.

* * *

A/N: This was my first One Shot fic attempt. I found it hard to do, and this is not my best work but tell me what you think D  
Also, I write fanfiction under a different alias, and I've been writing for years, I just felt like trying something new for a while.  
Thanks for Reading!!

LB.


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